


The Bodyguard Boyfriend

by Rehfan



Category: Captain America: Winter Soldier, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Anal Sex, And then Sam changes his mind about Bucky - a BIT, Blow Jobs, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Dirty Talk, Don't @ Me, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fantasy, Frottage, Kissing, M/M, Masturbation, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, SERIOUSLY AWFUL, Sam just doesn't like Bucky in this one, Sam says something VERY AWFUL to Bucky, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Acceptance, Sexual Roleplay, Suit Kink, Suit Porn, TONY AND SAM ARE DICKS TO BUCKY, Tony can be a dick tbh, Tony has panic attacks, Voyeurism, and please don't kill me, but it is REALLY OOC for Sam and it's hateful, pining Bucky, wedding au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 11:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10696086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehfan/pseuds/Rehfan
Summary: Bucky Barnes has been asked to protect Tony Stark from an overly-amorous admirer at Steve and Sam's wedding by pretending to be Tony's boyfriend. Little does Tony suspect, but Bucky's had a SUPER-SECRET crush-type thing for him for a while now, so of course Bucky says yes! But the woman isn't just a fan - she's got a plan. And it doesn't include Bucky Barnes, no matter how badly he may seem to want to get with the playboy.It's a good thing Bucky has his friends to back him up. (And maybe even get him the guy.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For Fandom Trumps Hate (because it does) and for my wonderful generous bidder: dreamcatchersdaughter  
> (I hope y'all like it!)

He stared at the card in his hand and then up to Steve who was scrambling himself some eggs.

“What?” asked Steve.

“Why did you mail this to me, Steve? We live in the same house. You, me, Nat… and soon it will also include your fiancée Sam. Why would you waste the postage?” asked Bucky, holding the engraved invitation aloft.

“Tradition,” said Nat, chewing on her bacon distractedly. “American wastefulness.”

“Hey!” Steve objected.

“What?” said Nat. “American wastefulness is a tradition.”

Steve looked to Bucky for help. Bucky shrugged; he couldn’t argue. “She’s got a point.”

Steve shook his head. “It’s supposed to be mailed to each and every person - even the ones I live with.” He poured his eggs into the pan and stirred. “Besides, it was Sam’s idea. I personally thought it was kind of dumb.”

Nat snorted a laugh.

“Nice backpedal, bro,” said Bucky. He sat heavily across from Natasha and attempted to grab a piece of bacon from her plate. He was unsuccessful.

“So…” said Natasha, “who’s going to be your ‘plus one’, James?”

He hated when she used his proper name. Of course, that’s precisely why Nat used it. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t have to have one.”

“Then who are you going to dance with?” she asked.

“I’ll find someone,” Bucky said with a shrug. “I’m not big on dancing anyway.”

“He can dance with you, Nat,” said Steve as he joined them at the table, steaming eggs and buttered toast on his plate.

“Oh no, he can’t,” she said. “I’ve got my eye on a certain thief. He and I have things to talk about.”

“Nat,” warned Steve, “you’re not going to cause trouble at my wedding reception, are you?”

Nat shrugged. “Depends on what kind of man Scott Lang is.”

“A small one,” said Bucky. Steve chuckled.

“Hey,” she said, “it’s the suit that makes him small. Outside the suit… he’s… interesting.” Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. Natasha said quickly: “Oh, he’s a total dork. Just an… interesting dork.”

“You have weird taste in men, Nat,” said Bucky.

She got up and carried her plate to the sink. “At least I’ve got someone in mind that I’m not afraid to talk about. Unlike someone with a prosthetic metal arm I know.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said Bucky.

“I will say,” said Steve, “you were always the one who could pull with the ladies. Back in the day, Nat, James Buchanan Barnes was very much a ladies’ man.”

“And now?” she asked.

Steve didn’t answer her. His fork moved his eggs about for a minute before he glanced at Bucky shyly.

“I am so not talking about this,” said Bucky. His chair squeaked loudly as he pushed back and rose to his feet.

Steve and Nat watched him leave and heard his heavy footfalls on the stairs. “So…” said Nat, “there is someone. Huh.”

 

~080~

 

His mother always taught him that love would strike him right between the eyes when he was least expecting it. She was right.

Bucky fell into his bed and studied the ceiling trying not to think about the whole ‘plus one’ situation. He knew who he would ask if he wouldn’t be laughed out of the room. Tony fucking Stark. The man was infuriating and fascinating and all Bucky Barnes wanted to know was how much he could take and how he liked it. A filthy smile spread across his face as an idle hand brushed over his crotch.

Bucky closed his eyes and imagined sitting next to Tony as he watched his brother Steve marry his best friend. He wondered what the playboy would wear to such an occasion. Probably something obnoxiously expensive. Probably something well-tailored and gorgeous. Most likely both. His hand moved along his growing hard-on. And to dance with him? Something slow. Something where he could smell his cologne.  
He sat up and adjusted the crotch of his jeans. There was no ignoring his semi-erect cock.

“Fuck it,” he muttered and got up quickly to lock the door. He paused a moment, thought better of it, and jammed the wooden chair that normally sat in the corner under the doorknob for good measure. The bedside table was the obvious place to leave lube, but whatever. He was a healthy male. He didn’t mind Natasha knowing what he got up to, should she be sneaking about; she would expect it of him. But he wasn’t about to let her habit of not knocking before entering a room interrupt his jerking off. That was out of the fucking question.

He eased out of his jeans and underpants until his cock popped free, sat on the bed, and with his lubed-up human right hand went for a slow, even stroke to spread the fluid. He hated using his metal hand for this. It always felt so… wrong. But when he used his good hand, he was a lot less self-conscious and could feel free to dream of Stark anyway he wanted. There were times when he would fantasize about Tony Stark and imagine him stripped of all his clothes and his haughtiness - broken down, strapped to a Catherine’s wheel, and whimpering for more.

And then there were times like these where he imagined Tony as romantic, clever, erudite, softer, sweeter and just a little bit… naughty. He closed his eyes and danced slowly with him, rocking to and fro, passing his lips along Tony’s neck and up to his earlobe where, with a nip, he would let him know he was in the mood to do more than dance. He imagined them casually slipping away somewhere while the rest of them made merry under the tent that was going to be set up in the back yard of their home. He thought they might go to his own room. Bless Steve and Sam for wanting a simple, low-key wedding ceremony; access to his bedroom would be a cinch.

He knew he would want Tony against a wall. That was a given. He figured as soon as the door closed behind them, he’d press his frame up to it, bracing it with his own and slowly kiss his face while staring into his eyes. And Tony would talk the whole time, but Bucky wouldn’t be listening; he’d only be watching his mouth move. And Christ that mouth! Bucky sincerely wanted to know what Tony tasted like. He pictured a warm sweetness, but he couldn’t be sure.

His cock liked the idea. He was good and hard now, the tip giving off just the start of some precum. Bucky rubbed his thumb over his slit and let his fingertips play with his head. His frenulum was always the most sensitive bit of him and he thought Tony’s would be too. He imagined kneeling before him, Tony’s cock heavy and hanging out from the fly of his trousers. And that sight would be the end of him.

“Oh Jesus Christ,” sighed Bucky as his cock throbbed in his hand. His metal prosthetic hand gripped the edge of the mattress and he heard a spring squeak. He couldn’t help it. That’s what he wanted most of all: Tony Stark in his best suit, looking sharp, looking clean, and just his raging hard-on and balls hanging out from the zippered portion of his fly.

“Fuck me,” he said, “I would suck you dry, you smug bastard.”

Imagining himself dropping to his knees before Tony, taking him in his mouth and sucking his cock was enough to allow that slow coil of heat to build up and up and up in his belly to the point that he knew he was going to come.

It was quick. Too quick. Embarrassingly quick. He finished in a tissue grabbed hastily from a box on the bedside table.

When he was clean, he lay back down and stared again at the ceiling. How in hell was he going to get any of that to happen? And more to the point: how was he going to do it with his entire family watching him try to romance Tony Stark?


	2. Chapter 2

“You are sweet to ask, JARVIS, but it’s actually none of your business,” said Tony. He threw a baseball up into the air and caught it with the opposite hand. His feet were propped up on the desk as he leaned back and caught the ball again.

“But sir,” insisted his AI computer, ”you must RSVP by tomorrow. It’s only polite.”

“Look, if I’m going, I’m going. If I’m not, I’m not. Steve’s a friend… sort of. And Sam is… well… Steve’s friend. Actually about to be more than friends- Look, the point is, I would feel weird going without a date and that’s that.”

“As far as I know,” said JARVIS, “you are not required to have one. And besides, the Regional Secretary Louis DaSilva and his family will be in attendance. If you want to have a lab in the Azores, you’re going to have to talk to him eventually.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Tony. “God, I hate politics. Why can’t I just buy one of their islands and build what I need? I’d be discreet. No one would know. If anything, I’d be developing technology there that would vastly improve their country.”

“They only have the nine islands, Mr. Stark,” said JARVIS. “If you buy a whole one, they’re going to notice.”

“I keep forgetting that ‘subtle’ really isn’t my thing, don’t I?”

“Yes, sir. You do.”

 

~080~

 

Tony bit into his burrito and chewed thoughtfully. Rhody just watched him sleepily over his nachos. “You call me all the way out here to watch you eat?” he asked.

“Mmm-mmm,” mumbled Tony in the negative. He swallowed his mouthful and continued: “I need a plan of attack. I figured you, being in the military, would be the best person to ask about attacks and plans. And besides, this is the best 24-hour Mexican joint in all of Malibu and I’m buying, so what are you complaining for?”

“Attack?” asked Rhody, his mind moving past the talk of all-night chimichangas. His spine stiffened slightly. “What alien force are we taking down now?”

“No no,” said Tony, “this is something much more serious. Let me ask you this: how to do I enter this shindig and look taken?”

“What the hell are you talking about? What shin- Oh.” Rhody’s face moved from confusion to irritation to incredulity. “You mean to tell me, you called me up at this time of night, morning, whatever - and out of a sound sleep, no less - you call me up with all that urgency in your voice, telling me to keep it on the down-low that we were meeting, so that you could eat a burrito in my face at four-thirty in the goddamned morning and ask me to be your date for Steve and Sam’s wedding?” Before Tony could answer with his mouth full, Rhody cut him off: “First of all, I have a date. And she’s fine. And I mean FINE. So I am not giving her up to spend the day with your whiny ass. Second: you know what? I don’t even know why we’re friends. You get me all worked up with this espionage bullshit only to ask me to fucking prom?!”

“You’re right,” said Tony. He wiped his mouth and sat back. “You’re right. I’m an asshole. I shouldn’t have made it sound like another Avengers thing with all the cloak and dagger, but seriously, do you have any idea how difficult it is to get in touch with you lately?”

“I’m busy.” Rhody glared at Tony. “And I’m not your date. So suck it up, buttercup.”

Tony blinked. “Well, yeah… Ok,” he said slowly and waited.

After a beat, Rhody sighed, rolled his eyes and said, “But I suppose I could help you with ideas.” He ignored the slow smile that was spreading across Tony’s face. “What the hell do you want?”

“I need to look taken.”

“What in hell is that supposed to mean?”

“One of the regional secretaries to the Azores is going to be there. He’s one of Sam’s cousins and it’s good that he’s there because I want to talk about the Azores lab, but that’s besides the point. The point is: DaSilva’s daughter, Amalia,” said Tony. “She’s been trying to make a move on me - you know, sexually? Maritally? - and I’ve been politely avoiding her. But at a wedding? Yeah. No chance. Women get crazy at those things, but she’ll be crazier.”

“So you dance with the girl,” said Rhody, shrugging off Tony’s concern. “You give her a twirl around the dance floor and her daddy is pleased you’re showing her a good time. Then you get the deal in the Azores. It’s just politics set to music. That’s all.”

“Not with this girl,” said Tony, “And she’s no girl. She’s easily in her forties and I don’t find her attractive. Also, her last husband was her third and she’s angling to make me number four.”

“So? Dancing is not marriage.”

“It is in some cultures,” countered Tony, taking another bite of his burrito.

“So you go there with a date,” said Rhody.

“Yeah,” said Tony, “but who? I need to have someone who’s going to intimidate a decidedly persistent woman just enough so that she stays away from me so I can discuss the deal with her father.”

Rhody thought a moment. “Let me make a call,” he said, reaching for his phone.

“Uh… no,” said Tony. “We’re not going to just arbitrarily call the superhero phone tree and ask around for a date for Tony so a woman will stay away from him. That’s stupid and embarrassing and I would look like such a loser and a loner and-” Tony stopped in mid-thought.

“What?”

“Son of a bitch.”

“What?”

“Call Barnes. Ask him if he’s willing to play along.”

“Holy shit,” said Rhody, realizing how perfect a person the Winter Soldier would be in pretending to be Tony’s intimidating romantic interest.

 

~080~

 

“Um… what?”

It was a rare occasion that he got actual phone calls from anyone but Steve, so when his cell phone rang that evening as he lay there after his self-love session, he was shocked to see the number and even more shocked to hear the proposal coming from the other end of the line.

“What?” he repeated.

“It’s just for the wedding,” said Rhody. “Do you mind? If you do, no big deal. No pressure. No obligation. Just-”

“Yeah,” said Bucky and winced at how quickly he had agreed to be Tony Stark’s date for Steve’s nuptials. “Uh, I mean… sure. It’s ok with me. I was going to go alone anyway.”

His embarrassment went unnoticed by Rhody. “Great. See you there. Oh, and uh… Tony’s just RSVP-ing for one. So no need to add him on as your plus-one or anything. As far as anyone is concerned, you two are just friends who happen to be attending the same wedding. You just run fake boyfriend interference when…” There was a pause while Rhody verified something with someone. Bucky couldn’t quite hear his voice. “…when Amalia DaSilva walks up to Tony. Got that?”

“Yeah sure,” said Bucky. “Hey. I’ll make sure I greet him personally when he gets there. It’ll help sell it at the reception later.”

“Perfect!” said Rhody. “Thanks man. Tony Stark will owe you - big time.”

“No problem.”

The call disconnected and if Bucky weren’t already lying across his bed, pants down to his ankles with his freshly hand-fucked cock hanging out, he would have collapsed there anyway from the shock of it all. Life could be strange; that he knew. But for that phone call to come on the heels of him jerking off while thinking about giving Tony Stark a blowjob while he wore his best suit? That was fucking ridiculous.

“Oh shit,” he said, throwing his metal arm across his eyes. “I have to buy a really really nice suit now. Fuck.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Why don’t you just wear your dress uniform?”

It was a simple and logical question and just the one he had expected from Steve, but it was difficult to explain.

“I spent more time out of that uniform than in it, Steve,” he began. The words sounded weak to his own ears. He hoped Steve - out of everyone - would understand.

“Buck,” said Steve, pausing long enough from pulling weeds in the back yard to put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “when you were wearing it, you were the best there was.”

“Until Captain America showed up,” Bucky smirked and pulled at another weed. But it was true. Bucky could hold his own in any fight, but Steve… When he appeared on the scene, he was enormous and formidable. Bucky knew he was still his best friend, but couldn’t get over the changes Dr. Erskine had achieved with his serum. A bastardized version of the same serum would eventually course through his own veins and start him on a path of hellish brainwashing, conditioning, and obedience; Bucky’s change was definitely for the worse.

“Yeah, well,” blushed Steve, turning back to his work. “All I did was think of what you would do in similar circumstances. And then I just went with it.” His blue eyes met Bucky’s. “You were my hero back then, Buck. You still are.”

Bucky was quiet at that. He heaved a breath and there was a comfortable silence between the two men as they worked. After half the edging was weeded properly, Steve brought the subject up again.

“If you don’t want to wear it, I suppose I understand,” he said.

“I just don’t think-” began Bucky. He hesitated. He wanted to tell the truth, but saying the words would make the last seventy years very VERY real. “Dammit.”

“What?”

“The truth is, Steve: the second I fell from that train, I disgraced the uniform. I can’t wear it because I don’t deserve to wear it. Not anymore.”

“You’re right,” said Sam. He had gone off to the hardware store for mulch and had two big bags balanced on either shoulder. As he set them down beside the weeded landscaped edging, he said: “You know, I think that’s the first thing you and I have actually agreed on since we met.” His stare was hard at Bucky.

“Hey,” said Steve, in a small effort to stem the tide of growing animosity between his best friend and his fiancée.

Sam waved him off. “It’s alright, Steve. You don’t have to worry. Agreeing on this is a good thing. He knows he doesn’t deserve to wear the uniform and he also knows that I think he doesn’t deserve to wear the uniform. See? We agree. He’s disgraced it for life.” Sam walked away and around the house toward his pickup to get two more bags of mulch.

“For several lifetimes, actually,” said Bucky softly.

“Stop,” said Steve, shaking his head. “Look, okay, so no uniform. What are you going to wear? You’ve got to stand up for me Buck. Do you even own any suits?”

“Nope,” said Bucky. “Which is why I need help. Remember? When I asked you for that in the first place?”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Steve. He grabbed one bag of mulch and ripped it open, shaking its contents in front of the low hedges that grew in the bed. Bucky grabbed the other and did the same. Steve took up a small metal rake and began pushing the new mulch over the soil. As he worked, he spoke again: “Nat could-” Bucky cut him off. 

“Nat is NOT helping me get a suit,” said Bucky. “If it were a stealth mission to steal some documents or kill an ambassador or something, then she can help. But a simple wedding? No. Nat would be trying to get the suit to fit me and about six different weapons. Sorry. Bad choice.”

“What’s a bad choice?” asked Sam as he came over to them, his arms loaded again.

“How many bags did you get?” asked Steve, using the time to judge Bucky’s reaction to Sam’s intrusion. Bucky was unreadable.

“Nine like we agreed. So far so good?” asked Sam.

“Looks like it’ll be enough,” said Bucky.

Sam nodded. “So… what’s a bad choice?”

“Having Nat take me suit shopping,” said Bucky.

“Well there’s your first problem,” said Sam, “thinking you have to go shopping for a suit when what you need to do is have one tailor made.”

“Isn’t that expensive?” asked Steve.

“I’ve got some money put away,” said Bucky, slightly hurt by the insinuation that he may not be able to pay for his own suit.

“You got a couple thou or so socked away, do you?” asked Sam.

Bucky grinned, “More than that.” Suddenly he was serious. “Did you want to recommend some place?”

Sam paused and looked at Steve and then again at Bucky. “Maybe.”

Steve grinned sheepishly. “Here’s an idea: Sam you shouldn’t just recommend a place. You should maybe go with him? Get him fixed up? You know? Maybe? For me?”

Sam looked shocked. Bucky looked threatened. Soon enough both were looking at each other.

“You cool with that?” asked Sam.

“If you are,” said Bucky.

There was another beat of silence between them before Sam said: “Next Thursday. I’ll pick you up here. We can go after breakfast. Shop’s in Harlem. Take an hour to get there.”

“Roger that,” said Bucky and both men went back to work without another word as Steve stood grinning stupidly between them.

 

~080~

 

Bucky had a nightmare running through his head all the way there. Sam would take him to some dank, dark store where an old man would greet them with a palsy hand and he wouldn’t ever wind up with a suit that was either modern or well-fitted. It would be made from some course material, the collar too tight, the pattern straight out of a 1917 men’s catalog. The wedding day would be hell on earth and he would wind up a laughing stock the whole time - and every time the wedding album was opened.

“Here we are,” said Sam.

New York was his home turf. In Brooklyn, Bucky used to know every street and alley, every nook and cranny. Since his Winter Soldier days had ended and he had been out of the deep freeze, he had renewed his acquaintance with not only Brooklyn, but all of New York. And he knew this place too. Calvin’s Men’s Clothing Emporium was the first place an up-and-coming young black man would go to get the finest suits in Harlem. After Bruce Banner’s alter-ego had come through and decimated a good part of it, he was afraid that it hadn’t survived. But as their car slowed outside, there it stood in all its glory since 1923.

Bucky couldn’t help but ask: “Calvin’s?”

“Hey,” said Sam, “nobody but nobody ever talks smack about Calvin’s.”

“What? I wasn’t talking smack,” said Bucky. “I’ve just never actually thought of myself as shopping here.”

“Yeah, well,” said Sam, “first of all, I’m doing this for Steve. Second of all, you are not going to look like hell on my wedding day. And third of all, I’m doing this for Steve.”

“Reasons one and three are why I’m here,” said Bucky. “And I’m just thankful for reason two.”

The original Calvin had been dead for forty years but his great-grandson had inherited the business - and Calvin’s name. When Sam came in, he greeted him like family. A jocular man, quick to smile, he was dressed in a well-appointed suit with a crisp white shirt. “And how can I help our nation’s finest soldier today?”

“Well, Cal, I’m not here for me,” said Sam, turning to Bucky.

“Well well, now,” said Cal, approaching Bucky with an evaluating stare. “So what is this for, gentlemen?”

“A wedding,” said Bucky.

“Daytime or night? Any special color theme?” asked Calvin as he walked around Bucky, his eyes roving up and down.

“Late afternoon wedding into evening,” said Sam. “Can you hook Bucky up?”

“Bucky?” asked Calvin, completing his revolution around him to look into his eyes.

“James, actually, but the nickname’s Bucky,” he said. “Just call me Bucky. And nothing itchy. And no tight, super-starched collars.”

Calvin smiled gently at him. “Don’t worry, Bucky. We’ll treat you just right.”

The process was a long one. Calvin engaged Sam and Bucky in discussions over swatches of materials. Conversations about collars. Debates about accessories. Bucky wasn’t contributing much, deferring to the obviously more experienced Sam and Calvin. He allowed them to dress him like a toy doll. And with that opportunity, Sam got in a few laughs at Bucky’s expense: Cal and his staff gave him a ruffled light orange shirt, declaring that it was a color that was coming back. When he showed himself on the stand, Sam’s howl could be heard in Battery Park and Calvin embarrassingly expressed a hunger for a scoop of orange sherbet. Bucky stared hard at Sam and stormed off to the dressing rooms again to wait for the next onslaught. Eventually though, the things he was given seemed a bit more appropriate and Bucky felt himself blush and grin in spite of himself as Calvin smiled at him and Sam nodded his honest approval. Almost two hours later, Bucky was invested in the process, giving his opinion and getting both Sam and Calvin to weigh in.

In the end, they walked out of the store having spent a good amount of Bucky’s cash on two suits, six shirts, four ties, and three sets of cuff links - the suits to be fully tailored inside the next two weeks, just in time for the wedding.

 

~080~

 

A week later, a phone call came to the house. “It’s Tony Stark for you, Bucky,” shouted Nat. As she passed off the phone to him, she asked, “Why is he calling you on the house land line and not your cell?”

“I don’t know,” groaned Bucky. The house phone had three extensions: the kitchen, Steve’s bedroom, and the living room where Bucky now stood. Steve and Nat were both reading and Sam was watching something on TV when the phone had rung. They all eyeballed him as he brought the receiver to his ear. “Yeah?” he asked.

JARVIS’s voice was a balm to his jangled nerves. “Mr. Stark is calling for you, please hold.” There was a moment of silence and then a click.

“Hey Buckaroo, how’s things?”

“What do you want?” asked Bucky in a flat, hateful tone.

“No need to get defensive, James,” said Tony, “just checking that we’re still on for the big shindig. And that you don’t need any help in the dress department.”

“Why would I-”

“You see, I thought, hey, if I were a frozen warrior for the other side, brainwashed, homeless except for my cryo-tube, and then brought back to the living and the quasi-right side of the law - and if I cared a damn about the American military - why in God’s name would I want to wear my old uniform? I mean, clearly, you’ve disgraced it.”

Bucky was silent at this, but he gripped the phone tighter and clenched his jaw, waiting.

“Judging by your silence, either you haven’t come to that conclusion or you have and I’ve struck a nerve. Either way,” said Tony, pressing on, “either way, you need to look good for your buddy Steve and his soon-to-be-spouse Sammy boy, so I thought: why not offer JARVIS as tailor and we could whip you up something stunning. That is, unless, of course you’ve already gotten a tailor - oh dear God please don’t tell me that you just ambled down to the big-and-tall store to buy something off the rack because seriously-”

“What the hell do you take me for, Stark?” asked Bucky. “Do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Well…?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

“You listen to me. I will see you on Steve and Sam’s wedding day. You will behave yourself and so will I. But so help me, if you insult me, Steve, or the day itself, I will throw you out on your ass faster that you can call for your precious mechanized suit. Don’t fuck with me, Stark. I will hand you your lungs.”

“Right. So that’s a ‘no’ on the offer, then.”

“Yeah. That’s a ‘no’. You can fuck right off.”

“But our deal is still on, right? And I’d owe you.”

“Yes and hell yes.”

“Gotcha.” Tony paused and then said one more thing before disconnecting the call. “You know, I think this is the longest I’ve ever heard you speak. You have a lovely voice. Gotta go.”

Bucky stared at the receiver as the phone emitted a dull tone. He hung it up, looked at all the other faces (who suddenly looked back at their books and TV) and went up to his room, slamming the door.

Two weeks until the wedding and Bucky couldn’t wait to be free from the nerves and this stupid set-up. “Hurry up with that goddamn tailoring job, Calvin,” he muttered to his walls.

 

~080~

 

The phone disconnected and Tony sat in silence a moment, his newest suit design forgotten on his lab’s monitor. He supposed the ‘disgraced the uniform’ comment was what tipped the conversation into a black hole. He stood abruptly, needing to get out of his lab and into the open air. The thought of a black hole was… unnerving.

He made his way upstairs to his bedroom and stood out on the balcony that faced the sea. The air was better here, cleaner. He could think. He needed quiet and said: “JARVIS, hold all my calls. I need some private time.”

“Very good, sir.”

The sun was still new in the sky and he had the whole day ahead of him, but all he wanted to do was crawl back in bed and snuggle. Unfortunately, there was no one to snuggle with as Pepper had moved out - temporarily, Tony hoped - and had left him alone with his projects. As she had left, he recalled her mentioning something about his lack of maturity and overall egotistical selfishness. That sounded like him.

“Does not play well with others,” he muttered to himself and then chuckled. “Guess I picked the perfect date for myself then. Barnes is no prize.”

But he was. Sort of. He was tall, dark, moody, had a mechanized arm that Tony practically drooled over. Not to mention the military background. “I’m not a fan of being a soldier,” he said to the sea, “but I do love a man in uniform.”

Tony imagined what Barnes would have looked like back then, his body whole, his uniform crisp and pristine, his heart still beating red, white, and blue - and an actual smile on his face.

“Oh holy mother of God,” he said. His pants had gotten a fraction tighter. It was then he noticed the grime on his arms and remembered how long it had been since he had washed up. “Perfect,” he said and walked off to take a shower.

He hadn’t masturbated in so long he almost forgot what he liked. But Bucky helped him remember. Soon Tony stood under the hottest spray of water he could stand and leaning on the tile with one hand, took himself in the other with as much body wash as he could lather himself with. He did like a slick fuck. He wondered if Bucky would catch or pitch and eventually decided that pitching was more to the soldier’s actual taste. It was just as well because Tony was a switch hitter. But for this dream, Bucky would take it and like it. He would like it a lot.

“Oh God, Tony,” he heard Bucky say in his mind and his cock responded in kind, his hips moving in a slow undulation that would guarantee to make Bucky Barnes moan his name. Tony closed his eyes and imagined staring the man down, his brown eyes boring into Barnes’ blue as he stuck himself deeper and deeper inside him. He imagined kissing that mouth, sucking on his bottom lip and dragging it out with his teeth. Bucky, breathless, would be left to moan and grab Tony’s ass, squeezing it firmly.

“More, Tony,”he imagined Bucky begging, “please.” Tony rolled himself over and pressed his back against the shower wall. His free hand massaged his balls as his breath echoed in the small chamber.

“Oh fuck,” said Tony, his hand tightening slightly around his cock. “This is… so fucking good, Barnes.” No, he thought. Not ‘Barnes’. “James,” he said aloud. “James. Yeah. That’s it. Just like that. Let me fuck you deep. Come on.”

Positioning in his mind’s eye had shifted and now James was on all fours, his ass presented to him. “Oh fuck. What a slick hole. Son of a bitch.” Tony’s hands bracketed the man’s hips as he thrust into him over and over. “Gonna come inside you, James. Gonna come hard. Only warning. You good?”

“Uh-huh,” James replied helplessly, his brow furrowed, his cock hard and leaking. Tony pictured taking it into one of his hands and stroking him off as he fucked him. A guttural moan issued from the soldier.

Tony whispered gruffly to him: “You won’t come until I order you to, soldier. Do you understand?”

“Y-Yes, sir,” said James and a new wave of heat spread to Tony’s groin and he felt his balls tighten.

“Ugh, I’m close. Fuck.” The tension welled up in him and there was a giddy sense of euphoria. It grew like a wave and swept him up until everything vanished: Bucky, his ass, his eyes, his mouth. Nothing existed except the warm sensation of being slickly enveloped. He released all over the glass of the doors in huge thrusts, grunting: “Fuck! James! God damn, James!”

Tony leaned heavily against the tile wall and slapped one of the shower heads so that the water ran down the glass and washed away his cum. He closed his eyes and pictured leaning heavily forward against Bucky as he stroked him off, ordering him to come. He imagined the same thrusts and grunting and a quiet ‘Thank you, sir’ before Barnes collapsed into the mess and caught his breath.

Tony smiled. “Good thing this is a fantasy, Barnes,” he said aloud. “I don’t know if I’d know what to do with you in real life should we find ourselves naked and in bed.”


	4. Chapter 4

The day had arrived and Bucky couldn’t stop his hands from shaking long enough to tie his necktie. He walked into Steve’s room to ask for help when he stopped cold. Steve stood in front of his mirror fully dressed in his dress uniform staring off beyond his reflection. He looked like he was a thousand miles away. Bucky cleared his throat.

Steve turned to see him there and smiled, embarrassed.

“Big day,” said Bucky. The house was a cacophony of noise downstairs and in the back yard. They could hear Nat giving last-minute instructions to the caterer and the wedding planner.

“Big day,” Steve agreed. “Nervous about Stark?”

“What?” asked Bucky.

Steve shrugged and smiled, turning back toward the mirror and brushing some lint off of his jacket. “Nat put it together. She thinks it’s cute. I think he’s beneath you.”

“He’s not-” began Bucky, utterly bewildered at this turn. “I mean, I don’t-”

“Hey, hey… listen,” said Steve. “I don’t think it likely that the two of you will get into it at the wedding, but if you fuck with each other at my reception, I’ll kick your ass.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” asked Bucky.

“The grudge you have going with Tony,” explained Steve. “I mean, I know you two don’t get along, but it’s my wedding day, man. Please try.”

“Oh,” said Bucky, a wave of relief rolling across him. “Steve, Tony and I-”

“Are going to behave yourselves,” finished Steve. “I have no doubt.” There was a pause before Steve asked: “You need something?”

“Uh, yeah.” He held out the blue tie to Steve, a look of helplessness on his face. “No ties on my last uniform, if you know what I mean. It’s been a while.”

Steve smiled and nodded. As he was tying the Windsor knot, he remarked, “I remember when you taught me to tie my first one. I guess what goes around comes around, huh?”

“I remember that too,” Bucky smiled sadly. “It sucks that we never got to live out our lives.”

“What do you mean? Aren’t we living now?”

“Yeah, you might be, but I feel like I’m drifting somehow.”

Steve stared at him. “Like how?”

“I don’t know. I mean, Avengers is great and all, but… I don’t know. It all seems like ‘going through the motions’ to me. Look at you: Avengers Initiative is a driving force, gives you purpose. You seem to feed off of it. It’s good for you. Sam’s the same way. So’s Nat. And even Tony has his thing, if not precisely Avengers then doing good around the world, sort of cleansing his soul. I don’t know where to begin to cleanse mine.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

“Since I came out of my brainwashed nightmare and you called my name for the first time in seventy years.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, each man recalling that day from his own perspective. “Buck, I-”

“Are you almost ready?” asked Nat, knocking lightly at the door. The two men turned toward her evaluating stare. “Huh, you clean up good, Barnes,” she said. “One thing….” She came toward him, her satin blue dress enveloping her curves, simultaneously feminine and lethal. “I think we can lose this,” she said, reaching for his tie. “And open this?” she said, unbuttoning his shirt at the collar. “There. That’s better.”

“What are you doing?” Bucky asked.

She shrugged. “If you and Stark get into it on the dance floor, you won’t be giving him a garrote to work with,” she said simply. “And besides, an open collar is way sexier. And perfect for a casual back yard afternoon affair. You’ll fit right in.” She smiled.

Bucky turned helplessly to Steve, who shrugged. “Today’s fashions,” he said, “who the hell can keep up?”

They headed down the hall to the stairs and Nat turned, looking up again at Bucky. “One more thing,” she said, and lightly ruffled his perfectly combed hair, finger-styling it until he had a slightly unkempt look about him. Bucky was shocked to speechlessness. “What?” she asked defensively, “If I have to stare at you through this entire ceremony, I’m going to stare at something appealing. I like this look on you. It works. Now come on; we’re going to be late.”

  
~080~

  
They had gone in for the superstition, so Sam wasn’t due to arrive until just before the wedding processional music began. The canopy for the altar had been set up on the back parcel of their three acres in upstate New York, the tent for the reception was situated closer to the house. White chairs with simple white sashes were set up in a group at the center with a small aisle down the middle but for the beginning of the ceremony both grooms were going to enter in from the back and to either side of the congregation so that both men could process around their friends and family, flanking them, until reaching the front where they would meet with the officiant at the canopy itself. A string quartet would play for the ceremony and they were busy at it when the first guests arrived. Slowly, the chairs were filling up and one of Sam’s cousins was doing his best as the only usher to make sure that everyone had a program and a seat.

When Tony Stark arrived he nodded at the kid, who then attempted to hand him a program.

“Um no, I don’t like to be handed things, kid,” he said.

“I’ll take it,” said Bucky. Bucky had suspected that Tony would look good for this day, but he wasn’t prepared for the fine black suit with the fire engine red pocket square. He had spotted his arrival and, following him surreptitiously, waited for an opportune moment to reveal himself. His confidence had been boosted by Nat’s ministrations on his look. Natasha had good taste. If she said he looked good, he looked good. And right now, he wanted to look good for Tony Stark. “Shall I show you to your seat, Mr. Stark?” he asked Tony, finally meeting his eyes, his heart beating like a caged bird’s wings.

“Jesus Christ,” whispered Tony. “You look…” He never finished the sentence. He pulled off his sunglasses and was obviously staring up and down at the gorgeous man before him. It was only then that Bucky noticed that the glasses complimented the suit: silver frames with lenses that faded from deep cherry into dark smoky black.

“Oh Tony!” A female voice sounded behind Stark and he turned to look.

He spun back toward Bucky with slight panic on his face. “That’s her. On my six,” he said.

Bucky regarded her coolly and it fell into place: this was a mission; his objective: to deter and protect. His nervousness was gone and he knew what he had to do. He took Tony in his arms in a warm embrace and kissed him on the cheek.

As the kiss broke, Bucky whispered: “She’s Sam’s cousin. She’ll be seated on the other side of the center aisle. You won’t have anything to worry about for the ceremony. The reception might get tricky though. I’ll be watching out for you.”

“Uh, okay,” said Tony, clearly in shock.

“Come with me. Look friendly.” Bucky linked their arms and marched him down the aisle, doing his best to keep his hormones in check. His brain had just caught up with what had had happened to his lips and his entire body was on the verge of hormonal revolt. _Please dear God, don’t let me pop a fucking boner during this wedding_ , he prayed. He would die of humiliation if that happened. After all, he had to stand there next to Steve as his best man. With everyone watching. It would be awful.

And only then did it strike him that Nat or Steve might have noticed him hug and kiss Tony Stark. He looked around. No one seemed to have taken a particular interest. They were all too busy with their own nervousness regarding the day itself. He looked back. Amalia had been seemingly suitably discouraged. It appeared that he had achieved his objective without causing any collateral damage to his own reputation. Perfect.

“What the hell was that?” asked Tony. It seemed Bucky’s wasn’t the only brain having trouble keeping up.

“What do you mean?” asked Bucky, his voice a harsh whisper. “You wanted her to leave you alone. She’s going to now. Hopefully it’ll last clean through the reception and you can leave here and live out your life without her chasing you. I thought this is what you wanted!”

“I wanted you to run interference, but…” Tony’s voice was equally harsh but low. “Kissing me was- It was-” He blinked, confused. Conflicted.

“What? It was just a peck on the cheek. What are you so upset about?”

Before Tony could answer, Nat appeared. “We’re ready to start, fellas,” she said. “Time to put the animosity away.” She pulled Bucky away from Tony, pointed Tony to an empty seat on Steve’s side, and moved away with Bucky in tow. He stared off at Tony questioningly as he went, still wanting an answer and with a nagging, sinking feeling that he had gone too far.


	5. Chapter 5

The ceremony was beautiful and Bucky tried to stay focused and not think about kissing Tony as he bore witness to his best friend getting married. He handed over the ring at the appointed time, just as Nat handed over her ring to Sam. They spoke sacred words that touched everyone and Bucky couldn’t help himself; he stole a glance out into the congregation and watched Tony, his head cocked to the side, smiling gently at the ceremony. Then they kissed. Turning to the gathering, the officiant declared them married. A general cheer went up and everyone applauded and smiled as the two made their way down the center aisle and across the lawn toward the house and the reception tent.

Everyone milled about after that, each person filing down the aisle or out the sides toward the large tent that sat behind the house where the reception was to be. Bucky caught up with Tony and grabbed him by the elbow.

Tony said: “Great work up there, soldier. Nice pass off of the ring and all.”

“It’s not a difficult job,” said Bucky as he scanned the crowd for Amalia.

Tony noticed his glances and said, “I don’t see her.”

“She’s behind us. Ten feet and to the right. On your five.”

“Got it,” said Tony and, as the aisle widened and presented them with more room to maneuver, he added, ”Let’s lose her for now.”

“Roger that,” said Bucky and steered him toward the outside of the crowd and to their left, allowing them to put more distance between them and her and more people in the way. Soon they both broke into a little jog and, after a moment, Tony stopped them, satisfied with the escape.

He straightened his tie and cleared his throat. “Thanks for the interference, Barnes. Appreciate it.”

“It’s what you’ve asked me to do,” said Bucky.

“There is one thing in all of this that I can’t quite fathom,” said Tony. “And me being a genius, it’s not often that I come up against things I can’t fathom. So it’s a point of honor more than it’s a point of curiosity, but actually it’s both.”

It was all Bucky could do not to roll his eyes. “What?”

“Why did you accept?”

“Accept what?”

“My offer. To do this. You know, run interference. Why did you say yes? Because as far as I know, you hate me.”

“I don’t hate you, Stark,” said Bucky. “I just-”

“There you are!” said Nat. “The boys are looking for you. We have to do wedding pictures. Come on!” She turned to Tony and said: “Whatever beef you have with Bucky can wait.”

“Beef? There’s no beef,” he said, clearly confused. “I ordered the vegan plate!” he called after them as she carted Bucky away once again.

 

~080~

 

He came back into the reception tent just as Tony was trapped. Amalia had somehow found a corner in a round space and had backed Tony up against it, her heaving bosom pressed to his chest. A flash of jealousy jumped up inside him and he stalked over to where they were - only to be stopped by an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. who had clearly found the open bar.

“So you’re Bucky Barnes!” the man started. Bucky saw Tony looking around for help. “Always wanted to meet you.” He forcibly grabbed Bucky’s hand and began squeezing it but Bucky was too busy registering the look of alarm on Tony’s face. “A lotta good men are dead because of you, you asshole.”

This got Bucky’s full attention. He blinked once, surprised and then his eyes narrowed. He pulled the man violently toward him and began squeezing his hand back - hard. “And women.”

“Wha-? OW!” cried the man as Bucky leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Don’t forget all the women I’ve killed too. Hate to be sexist in this modern age.” Bucky stared at him, nose-to-nose. The agent was speechless. “Bet you wanna let go of my hand now, don’t you, jackass?” The man nodded vigorously. “Have a good time at the party today. And uh, ease up on the trips to the bar, you fucking lush,” Bucky said to his retreating figure.

Refocusing, he looked to find Tony… nowhere. He was gone.

He spun, looking all over for him as the DJ welcomed everyone to the festivities. Suddenly, Nat was there again, taking him by the hand and leading him off to the side. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Huh? No- Uh. Nothing’s wrong. I just lost Stark, is all,” said Bucky.

“Would you please get your head in the game?” she asked.

“Yeah. Sure. What? More pictures?”

“No, moron. We’re going to be introduced. We have to wave and smile. Can you do that?” she asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sure. Wave and smile. Got it. Piece of cake.” He was still scanning the room frantically for any sign of Tony or Amalia when the DJ called him up to be introduced as Steve Roger’s best man. Mechanically, he walked out and waved, using the time and the better vantage point of the middle of the dance floor for the opportunity to search again for the billionaire. He didn’t see him. He was gone.

Nat took him by the hand again and led him off as he realized that he missed his cue to step away and give the floor to the married couple. As they were formally introduced as Steven and Samuel Rogers-Wilson and embraced and kissed again, Bucky looked to the space where he had last seen Tony. From where he stood, he thought there was an overlap of the tenting material and that, through there, egress could be achieved. He had to go and search. Tony could be assaulted. Or he could be just inconvenienced, he reasoned. Amalia didn’t look too threatening, just irritating. And anyway, why was he getting so upset? What’s the absolute worst that could happen? It’s not as if he was getting paid to do anything, as if Tony hired him to be his bodyguard. And it’s not like he could have done a better job than this either; after all, he was one of the two best men at this wedding. He still had his speech to make.

Natasha pulled him off to the main table where the two grooms were to sit. There was a microphone resting on the table. His alarm was only slightly abated by his inner dialogue and he stared at the mic like it was a dismembered appendage.

“You give your speech first,” he said, surprising himself.

“What? Why? We agreed, you should go first-”

“I changed my mind,” he said to her. Tony’s face flashed before him: terrified, uncomfortable. That woman had been practically smothering him. And then he had disappeared completely. Bucky could talk himself around and around in circles but his instincts were on high alert, regardless. Fuck the wedding. He had to rescue Tony.

“Do it,” he told her shoving the mic at her. “I’ve got something to handle.” Before she could argue, he was gone, outside the tent via another opening near where they stood.


	6. Chapter 6

“JARVIS?” Tony asked as he continued to walk quickly away from the woman behind him. “What’s the ETA?”

“I really don’t think calling your suit to defend yourself against an unarmed civilian whilst attending a private wedding is the wisest decision, sir. Especially when you’re trying to negotiate a new lab with her father.”

Tony rolled his eyes and began to argue when she stepped toward him again. “Tony, you are such a tease! Why have you been avoiding me this whole time? You know I’m fond of you, right? So why would you hurt my feelings like that?”

“Perhaps it’s because I don’t like mixing business with pleasure?” he suggested, backing away from her for the millionth time. “I am trying to secure a deal with your dad, you know.” They had left the tent far behind and were now under the shade of a gigantic weeping willow tree that bordered the property. The branches hung so low and thick, they could not be seen from anyone standing outside their limits and it was so far from the wedding tent that Tony feared that he would not be heard if he shouted. But he tried anyway. “Barnes, where are you?!”

“Who’s Barnes?” she asked. She was petting his lapels now.

“He’s my- My uh-” he stammered. He had never wanted to hit a woman in his life, not even her, but the more she pushed him, the more he thought that that’s exactly what she needed to get his message across.

“Was he the man who kissed you when you first arrived?” she asked. “I’m not jealous, you know. You like to be kissed?” She leaned in closely. “I can kiss you too. As much as you like.” She giggled.

“Thanks for the offer, really, but um… not interested,” he said giving her a meaningful look.

“Oh, don’t tell me that,” she smiled. “You just haven’t met the right girl. Once you are in my arms, all others will fade away.” She backed him up to the trunk of the tree with a single finger. “All I’m asking for is a chance.”

“Please don’t touch me,” he said, feeling the world closing in on him a little.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” she said, removing her hand. “You’ve faced aliens in outer space, Tony. Flown right up into holes in the sky. I’m just one woman. One very patient woman. It’s alright that you’re nervous. I’m willing to give you time. Of course, I can’t give you too much time. You do have that impending deal with my father. It’d be such a shame if I talked him out of working with you.”

Tony’s head spun. He swallowed hard against the rising panic. Amalia’s proximity to him wasn’t helping. And she kept smiling. Why was she smiling when there was no oxygen? He struggled to see and to breathe. He needed air. He needed room, space. He wanted his suit. He needed to fly away. Now. He struggled to speak and push her away. “Got to- Just- Please- I-,” he stammered. He fell to his knees.

She bent to hold him and he wrestled himself away from her, part crawling, part stumbling. “Let me help you,” she insisted.

“That’s ENOUGH!”

Bucky stood beneath the edge of the bent branches his hands balled into fists. It was all he could do not to stalk to the woman and fling her away from Tony.

“I- I can’t breathe,” gasped Tony, “I can’t breathe.” Alarm registered in Bucky and he moved to Tony in three determined strides.

Chuckling nervously, she told Bucky: “He’s just a little drunk. He’s fine. Leave him to me.”

“No. You leave,” Bucky ordered. “And call an ambulance.”

“No!” said Tony. “No ambulance. No- no ambulance. Please.”

“Fine, no ambulance,” he said to Tony. Then to Amalia he growled: “Get the hell out of here will you?”

Amalia’s nervous laughter rose again. “But why? We were just talking. And maybe I can help?”

“Go!” said Bucky, disgusted. He put himself between her and Tony. “Get back to that tent, or so help me-” He raised his metal fist up just a fraction from his side. She didn’t need any more encouragement. She turned her back and was gone in a flurry of pink ruffles.

Bucky knelt by Tony as he gasped on all fours. “What do you need?” he asked in a soft tone.

“Air,” said Tony. His glance was pathetic. Bucky put Tony’s arm around his shoulders and helped him up. With his other arm around his waist, he walked him out of the shade of the tree and into the twilight of evening. “Breathe,” Bucky said. “Nice and slow.”

The chairs from the wedding were still set up in the field to their right and Bucky steered their progress toward them. “Here we go,” he said to Tony, setting him down. Tony was still gasping. Bucky reached for Tony’s tie and collar. “Lean back a bit, Tony. This’ll help.” In a matter of moments, he had Tony’s tie and shirt collar open and instantly Tony began to relax.

“Better?” asked Bucky.

“Better. Thanks, man,” said Tony.

“I’m sorry I lost track of you,” he said. “But you know: I’m busy today what with being Steve’s best- FUCK!”

“His best what?”

“My speech! I have to give my speech!” Bucky turned toward the tent. There was no sign that anything was amiss, but he knew Nat’s speech wouldn’t have taken this long to give. He had to get back. But he couldn’t desert Tony.

His frustration must have been apparent because Tony said: “Go. I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Listen, Comrade America, I’m good. Go give your speech.”

Bucky made a face but said nothing, racing back to the tent where, no doubt, his family would be waiting with snide remarks, questions, and stern looks.

 

~080~

 

Bucky got back just in time. He missed their first dance and Nat’s toast, but it was no great loss. There was a videographer in the corner recording it all. He raised his glass and said the words he had been rehearsing for the past month:

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls: It is my honor to toast my best friend, the one man who challenges me the most. He and I go back a ways and our relationship has had it’s moments, but our friendship beneath it all remained rock solid. And today he’s married to a man I have come to admire.” Sam raised his eyebrows at Bucky, but said nothing, listening with great interest.

Bucky continued: “When Sam and I met, it was like oil and water.” Here Sam nodded vigorously. “He hated me, I hated him - hey, at least we agreed on that!” Here a small chuckle arose from the crowd, “But it turns out we had one more thing in common: our unending loyalty and love for Steve Rogers. While Steve and I have history, Sam and Steve have the bond of service - my own being cut short by circumstances… and Nazis.” Again, a ripple of chuckles flitted among the guests. “And they have a deeper bond of romantic love - something we all aspire to have someday.

“Because of these bonds I know for a fact that Sam has Steve’s back. And his heart. And for all our differences, we at least agree that Steve is the most important person in our lives. And as far as I’m concerned, there’s no envy, no greed, no jealousy. Just love and wishes for all the best.

“So please, folks, raise your glasses to my best friend Steve and his husband Sam as they begin life’s journey together - and may they last until the end of the line.” Bucky looked directly at Steve as he said his final words and saw that the man’s eyes had begun to well up with recognition of the significance of the phrase.

“To Steve and Sam!” shouted Bucky, grinning like a fool. Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembered shouting “Let’s here it for Captain America!” and his eyes began to fill up too.

The crowd echoed him proudly: “To Steve and Sam!”

Bucky noticed Tony take his place as dinner was served and nothing out of the ordinary happened, save a few nasty yet curious glances from Nat. Bucky could ignore those. He was busy staring at Amalia.

She and her family were at a table across the space from Tony, which was a relief. She seemed to have recovered from her earlier panic and hadn’t looked as though she had raised much suspicion or alarm by reporting Bucky’s behavior to her father or anyone else. In fact, she was downright chatty and giggly, smiling away as if she had never driven a man to a panic attack in her life. Bucky was relieved, but at the same time he watched her carefully. She was a dizzy broad if Bucky had ever seen one.

Both Steve and Sam hated the tradition of the tossed bouquet. It was stupid and it only served to embarrass the crap out of the two poor individuals involved. Instead, they decided an anniversary dance would be more romantic. After all, isn’t that what weddings are for? To remind those married folks at the reception of their own wedding vows? All the married couples moved out onto the floor and, as the song played, the DJ asked that all couples married under five years take a seat. Then he asked those married ten years or less to sit, and so on, until at last, there was one lone couple on the dance floor. It was Sam’s great aunt and uncle, married 68 years ago. He held her gingerly and they barely moved about for both were of an advanced age, but they were smiling nonetheless. At the end of the song, as the applause rose, the grooms presented the couple with a bouquet of flowers and a bottle of champagne, a small gesture in the hopes that one day they too would have the chance to dance at someone’s wedding and be the last couple remaining.

Bucky glanced at Tony. His chair was empty and Bucky panicked until he spied him by the bar talking to Amalia’s father. Of course, Tony wouldn’t be interested in sappy sentimentality. He was Steve’s complete opposite, he thought, as he watched his friend dance with his husband again, happy tears in his eyes.

The DJ announced that the dollar dance was about to begin and Bucky inwardly groaned. Nat and he had both put up a fuss about it, but Steve and Sam insisted they both participate. “Besides,” Steve had said, “all the money that people pay to dance with one of the four of us goes to AmVets.”

It was a good cause. Bucky heaved a sigh, stood next to Nat on the dance floor, and waited as the DJ explained the rules: one dollar gets you one dance with any of the bridal party for three minutes each. This arrangement was to continue on until the night’s end. All money was to be donated to the charity at both the grooms’ request. When the music started, Sam smiled widely, holding aloft a one-dollar bill, and gave it to Steve. Steve’s head flew back in a laugh and they danced once again.

Bucky had never felt more like a taxi dancer in his entire life. He should have brought $200 singles with him and given them to Nat, Sam, and Steve so he wouldn’t have to risk getting his toes stepped on by some awkward aunt or cousin. But to his great surprise, no one paid. Soon he was standing there all alone while other couples danced. He thought of the drunken S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who hated him so much and he wondered if everyone else there felt the same way. He swallowed hard and tried not to reflect on his sins. There were too many. His sins were the reason he was wearing a suit instead of his uniform. It was the reason a stranger came up to him, emboldened by liquor, to tell him to go to hell. “Clearly, you’ve disgraced it…” was what Tony Stark had said. And Sam had agreed. And so had Bucky.

He was so lost in thought, he almost didn’t feel the tug on his sleeve. A little girl, she couldn’t have been more than eight, held a dollar up to him. He smiled softly at her, taking the money, and bending down said: “Thank you. Did you want me to pick you up and dance, or did you want to keep your feet on the floor?”

She thought a minute and then held out her arms. He picked her up and she hugged him, allowing him to hold one of her hands and sway them both back and forth to the music. “How’m I doing?” he asked her. She giggled.

“Real good,” she said. “You don’t step on my toes or anything.”

“That’s only because you’re lighter than air,” he said, spinning her around until she giggled again. And Bucky did too. His sins could wait.


	7. Chapter 7

Someone tapped his shoulder. “May I have this dance?”

A new song had begun. Bucky turned to see Amalia standing there expectantly and holding up a dollar. Bucky looked at his partner silently asking her if it was okay. The girl shrugged. “See you later, beautiful. Thank you for the dance,” he said to her and smiling, she left his arms and moved off into the crowd.

He pocketed her dollar and swayed mechanically with her to the music.

“Was Tony okay?” she asked.

“Fine,” he said.

A full minute passed before she spoke again. “You’re in love with him, aren’t you?”

He stopped their motion and stared at her. “That’s none of your business.”

Her eyes lit up. “You are! I knew it!”

“Why do you care? I mean aren’t you trying to get with him?” he asked her.

She smiled. “Just sizing up the competition.”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Lady, keep dreaming.”

“I see how it is,” she said. “But you have to think: does a man like Tony Stark really want to be with someone with your history? I mean, you did betray your country and murder hundreds, if not thousands, didn’t you?”

Rage welled up inside of him, but he tamped it down. “That’s all in the past. And that’s also pretty low. I knew you were dizzy, but I had no idea you were a schemer. Let me guess: all you want is his money and a spotlight.”

“And what’s wrong with that? Besides, I’m simply pointing out facts,” she smiled. “He may not be in love with me, but he and my father will be in business together. He will have no choice but to be around me. My family will provide all he desires for location and equipment. It will look like wonderful support for the Avengers Initiative. It’ll have international appeal. And a love story between Tony and me can only add a bit of romance to an otherwise boring business deal. News people eat that stuff up. He will never settle for you. You can offer him nothing but bad press.” She walked away into the crowd as the DJ announced the end of the next three minutes.

“Where the hell do you get off?” he called after her. Nat pulled at his elbow.

“Dance with me, doughboy,” she said.

He was moving with her on the dance floor before he noticed her mood. “Is everything okay?”

“Uncle Rodney just tried to cop a feel, cousin Fred stepped on my toe, and great aunt Pearl has been giving me the stink-eye all night,” she said. “How’s things with you?”

Bucky hid a chuckle and replied: “I had a lovely dance with a child and a not-so-pleasant encounter with a woman who’s got the hots for Tony Stark.”

“And why was she dancing with you and not trying to dance with Tony?”

“Because she’s a strange and unusual person.” It was the kindest thing he could think of to say.

Nat gave him a bewildered look. “Uh-huh. So she’s a sandwich short of a picnic?”

“No… she’s not crazy. She’s just calculating. I don’t trust her,” he said.

A moment of silence passed over them. Bucky scanned the room, noting where Stark was and where Amalia was. Unfortunately, she was a bit too close to him for Bucky’s comfort. She was standing beside her father and Bucky tried to watch them interact with Tony, to read the situation and evaluate whether or not he would be needed, but the room was too filled with dancers and he couldn’t see well.

“Who are you staring at?” she asked.

“Stark,” he said.

“What is it with you and him anyway? You’ve been at each other’s throats all damn day. What’s the play? You need back-up or something?”

“No. No, nothing like that. Stand down.”

“So… what?”

Bucky sighed. She was like a sister. Surely he could tell Nat what was going on? “Tony wants me to run interference between him and DaSilva’s daughter.”

“What? Why?”

He explained to her about the Avenger lab and base and Amalia’s father and his influence. He also explained about Amalia. Nat rolled her eyes. “That fucking coward,” she said, exasperated.

“I know, I know, he should just handle her. But the deal is delicate. He seems to think if he rejects her, she’ll run to daddy and get him to pull the project. And judging from the conversation we just had and what I overheard earlier between them, that’s exactly her play.”

“And daddy doesn’t know she’s an asshole?”

“Either that or he’s an asshole too and doesn’t care,” Bucky shrugged. The song ended and a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent tapped on Nat’s shoulder.

As she walked away with her new partner, she said to him: “If he’s an asshole, I don’t want to work with him.”

She had a point.

  
~080~

  
“So can we expect good things in the future, Regional Secretary DaSilva?” asked Tony, holding his champagne flute aloft, hoping for a clink of glasses in agreement. There was no clink. He frowned. He was clink-less and he didn’t understand why.

“My daughter Amalia is very fond of you and your Iron Man suit,” said Mr. DaSilva, turning to Amalia who had appeared at his elbow grinning like a predator. “It would please me very much if you would favor her with a dance.”

 _Oh Christ_ , thought Tony as he smiled mechanically at her. “Your daughter Amalia,” he repeated, clearing his throat. “We’ve met.”

DaSilva beamed. “She is so impetuous. Always has been. Why, when she was a child-”

“Father, please!” Amalia laughed. “Tony doesn’t want to hear about when I was a child.”

“Not really a fan of childhood stories, no,” Tony agreed. “Just one dance?”

“Only one,” said DaSilva, “whatever makes my child happy will make me happy.”

“And then we have a deal?” asked Tony. The whole thing was childish and absurd, but then, Tony’s whole life had been childish and absurd.

“We have a deal, yes.”

More music began and Tony recognized it as ‘Sing, Sing, Sing’. The horns began in jumping rhythm. Tony turned to Amalia, pushed back his fear and his revulsion, and took her by the hand. “Hope you can keep up, sister.”

He swung her out on the dance floor and twirled her around expertly. He thanked all fuckdom that the tune was a fast one. There would be nothing more awful than to find himself trapped in a tight embrace for a slow song with a woman who didn’t take no for an answer. If anything, he would have never gotten the smell of her pungent perfume out of his nose.

As they spun and moved, he caught sight of Bucky. The super soldier was very aware of the situation, but Tony didn’t want him to blow the whole deal for him. If this dance was interrupted, he could lose the Azores lab, but there was no way to tell Bucky that. He nodded and winked at him, letting him know that everything was under control. On the opposite side of the tent he saw DaSilva watching them and smiling. The old man caught his eye and raised his champagne flute.

  
~080~

  
Bucky couldn’t believe his eyes. What the fuck was Tony thinking? He moved across the dance floor, dodging the couples until he was within feet of where Tony was dancing energetically with a squealing Amalia. She looked at him and smiled, challenging him, almost daring him to break it up. Tony gave him a nod and a wink in a message of assurance. It was like Bucky had stepped into a parallel universe where Amalia was someone Tony genuinely liked. It was bizarre.

One second, Tony was having a panic attack because of her, the next he was dancing and smiling and twirling and suddenly Bucky had a headache. There was an anger building up in him as he watched them: Tony seemingly unaware and blissful, Amalia gloating and greedy. She laughed madly and screamed as Tony spun her yet again. Then the break in the song happened and they both went quite still, panting, letting the building drumbeats bring them back into the music. By the time the triumphant end of the song came, Bucky was still at a loss. Tony moved to him then, smiling, trying to catch his breath. “It’s fine,” he told him. “Had to seal the deal with pops by dancing with her. Thank God it was a fast one.”

Slow music began. Amalia took Tony by the arm from behind and pulled him to her. She wrapped her arms around him and swayed, cooing something in Tony’s ear that Bucky couldn’t hear. Bucky walked up and tapped Amalia on the shoulder. “This is my dance, I think.”

“Get your own partner,” she said and turned away from him. Tony gave him a horrified look and Bucky shrugged. Short of grabbing her and violently pushing her away, there was nothing to be done. Simultaneously ruining Sam and Steve’s wedding day and tanking the Azores lab plan by attacking a guest during the reception in the middle of the dance floor was not an option. Bucky couldn’t solve this problem without doing either of those things. He needed a plan.

He looked around and saw a very miserable Nat in the arms of yet another inappropriate male, Steve with an awkward look on his face as he danced with an overly-exuberant granny, and Sam who was getting his ear talked off by a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. He gave Tony and Amalia one last glance and, as Tony was spun around to face away from him, Amalia mouthed the word ‘Jealous?’ at him. That tore it.

He moved to Natasha and whispered: “Got a job. Meet me at the wedding cake in thirty seconds.”

He moved to Steve: “Need you, partner. By the wedding cake in thirty seconds.”

He moved to Sam: “I’ll owe you big time. By the wedding cake in thirty seconds.”

Halfway across the room on his way to the rendezvous point, Bucky was stopped by Colonel James Rhodes. “Whatever’s going on, I want in.”

Bucky blinked at first. He hadn’t thought of including Rhodes. “Sure. Follow me.”


	8. Chapter 8

“What’s the play?” asked Nat, glancing back at Tony and Amalia. It hadn’t taken Bucky long to fill the rest of them in, what with Rhodes there giving support to Bucky’s slightly edited version of the story: bodyguard, not “boyfriend”. That would have been too humiliating.

“And there’s another thing that I know will help in all this. I need to grab one thing and then we’ll be set. All I need is some time alone with Amalia’s father,” said Rhodes. He turned to Sam. “Can you get me that?”

“No problem,” said Sam.

“Walk him right out of the tent,” said Steve. “We don’t want him seeing anything but his little girl having a good time. We don’t move until he’s gone.”

Rhodes nodded. “Sam and I got this.”

The rest of the plan took about ninety seconds to sort out and four minutes to execute. Bucky watched as Rhodes and Sam passed by Scott Lang, Rhody whispered something in his ear, took something from him, and then they went along to the regional secretary to discuss the wedding, DaSilva’s children, his life in the Azores - anything to keep him distracted - and then they walked him out of the tent and around the property. All of that had taken the rest of the next song. But true to form, Amalia continued to monopolize Tony on the dance floor and Bucky caught his eye and nodded, praying that Tony would realize a strategy was in place but he didn’t think Tony understood him; Tony looked miserable.

Steve walked to the DJ and asked for the Louis Jordan and Louis Armstrong song “You Rascal You”. Once it began, Bucky and Nat danced together for the first verse and Louis Jordan sang:

  
“I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal you.  
I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal you.  
You know you done me wrong.  
You stole my wife and gone.  
I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal you.”

  
Then Bucky took Amalia by surprise and moved her out of Tony’s arms and into his own for the second verse. Nat smoothly took her place and danced with a very amazed Tony. “We have a plan,” she whispered to him.

  
“I’m gonna kill you just for fun, you rascal you.  
I’m gonna kill you just for fun, you rascal you.  
I’m gonna kill you just for fun.  
The bugs can have you when I’m done.  
I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal you.”

  
As the words of the song sank in and Amalia actually showed a shade of fear, Bucky grinned and leaned toward her ear. “I can’t be jealous of someone who stands no chance, sweetheart.” Before she could retort, he spun her away and she fell into Steve’s waiting arms for the third verse. Then Louis Armstrong began to sing:

  
“You asked my wife for some cabbage, you dog.  
I said you asked my wife for some cabbage, you ol’ rascal.  
You asked my wife for some cabbage,  
And you ate just like a savage…  
(laughs)… you ol’ rascal.”

  
“Here’s what you didn’t count on, Ms. DaSilva,” said Steve. “We’re a family. Bucky is our family. And no one steps all over our family. Ever.”

“Is that a threat?” asked Amalia.

“No ma’am,” said Steve. “I never threaten. I always promise.”

He spun her out of his arms and toward a waiting Natasha Romanoff.

  
“Now there ain’t no use of you runnin’, you rascal you.  
There ain’t no use of him runnin’, you rascal you.  
You know you fittin’ to run,  
‘Cause I went to the pawnshop and got my gun…  
(laughs)

  
“You should know: I always threaten,” she said to her, a beguiling smile playing on her lips. “And when it comes to having Tony Stark in your life, I suggest you lose that particular dream.” She spun her around before she could object or scream. “No use putting up a fuss,” Nat continued, her grip firm around Amalia’s waist. “This is Steve and Sam’s wedding. Bucky is family. You’re not winning this one.” She spun her away again and dipped her low on the return. “And your father isn’t the only regional secretary in the Azores.” She spun her away one last time into the arms of Scott Lang who had been standing on the edge of the dance floor.

He smiled at Amalia as he hooked her under the arm and walked her away. “So nice to finally meet you in person,” he said, “I’ve been watching you all night, but we haven’t been formally introduced. My name’s Scott. I’m a thief-turned-superhero. And I’m a really good friend of the family. You’ll see.”

  
“You messed with my wife, you rascal you.  
You messed with my wife, you rascal you.  
You messed with my wife,  
Now I’m gonna take you life  
I’ll be glad when you dead, you rascal you.”

  
As Nat had been dancing with Amalia, Bucky had been dancing with Steve and smiled his thanks. “Just like old times, eh?”

Steve smiled back. “Not exactly. But it does seem vaguely familiar.”

“The Hanson twins,” said Bucky. “At the Palisades.”

“Oh my God! Yes!” said Steve. “Boy were they glad to stop dancing with me.”

“Oh don’t be so hard on yourself! You’ve definitely improved,” said Bucky.

Steve laughed and spun him around toward Tony who stood bemused watching everything happen from the center of the dance floor. Bucky stopped in front of Stark and looked back at Steve. Steve nodded and said: “Go on!”

Bucky gave him a confused look. “You… want me to…?”

A peal of laughter came out of him and he nodded. “Are you kidding?! Earlier I thought you were gonna tear each other’s throats out. I didn’t know you were looking out for him.”

Bucky looked at Tony. Tony shrugged then smiled. “Thanks for the save, man. Come on. Let’s do this.” He held his arms out and Bucky joined him, finishing out the song with raucous dancing. Bucky was the happiest he’d been in a very long time.

  
~080~

  
The night air was cool after the stuffiness of the tent and the three men strolled along happily, the regional secretary nattering on about his family. All his daughters and sons were married, save Amalia. “I don’t know what it is about her, but men seem to shy away. She’s a lovely girl. Always polite. Very pretty. She comes from a good family…”

Sam and James Rhodes glanced at each other. Rhodes shook his head and pulled out a thin touchpad that displayed a “video play” triangle symbol in blue on its surface. “Before you say another word, Mr. Secretary, I think there’s a few things I need to show you.”

“What is this?” asked Secretary DaSilva as Rhodes started up the feed.

“We have a colleague that we work with. He’s an Avenger named Scott Lang. You may know him as Ant-Man,” began Rhodes.

“What is this, Rhodes?” asked Sam.

The video played and displayed a camera perspective on the wedding that, if the angle was correct, was coming from just behind Natasha Romanov’s right shoulder. “When the hell did you take this?” asked Sam.

“Scott took it. Tony outfitted his suit with a cam to record the wedding unobtrusively. He was going to give it to you as a wedding present.”

The camera showed a clear shot of Steve giving his vows. Then the image cut to Sam giving his, the perspective from Bucky’s shoulder this time.

“This is lovely, but why are you showing this to me?” asked DaSilva.

“Let me fast-forward,” said Rhodes. He pressed a button and the images slid forward in time. “Your daughter has been pretty damned aggressive with my best friend. And very rude to another colleague of ours. I just wanted you to see the proof.”

The screen stopped on an image taken of Amalia under the willow tree pressing Tony up to its bark. The point of view was from behind Amalia, as though Scott was standing on the outer fringe of the willow’s branches.

_“I can kiss you too. As much as you like,” Amalia was saying._

_“Thanks for the offer, really, but um… not interested,” was Tony’s reply._

_“Oh, don’t tell me that. You just haven’t met the right girl. Once you are in my arms, all others will fade away. All I’m asking for is a chance.”_

_“Please don’t touch me.” said Tony._

_“Don’t be so dramatic. You’ve faced aliens in outer space, Tony. Flown right up into holes in the sky. I’m just one woman. One very patient woman. It’s alright that you’re nervous. I’m willing to give you time. Of course, I can’t give you too much time. You do have that impending deal with my father. It’d be such a shame if I talked him out of working with you.”_

“What?” exclaimed DaSilva. “My daughter… I love her, but she does not influence my policy decisions to such a degree. It is true that I want to see her happy, but I would not place her individual happiness on the same scale as that of political and governmental decision-making. That is a separate matter entirely. What is she talking about?”

“I’m afraid she’s been very determined, sir,” said Rhodes. Sam just stood there, mouth closed, eyes wide. “Let me also show you this.” He moved his finger over the screen and the video skittered forward in time again to the dance with Bucky.

“Here your daughter is confronting James Buchanan Barnes, a decorated soldier, an Avenger, whom she happens to think is a rival for Tony’s attentions. He’s not. He was just trying to run interference. But… well… I’m afraid this is not very becoming.” Rhodes hit play and the video picked up just as Amalia said:

_“Just sizing up the competition.”_

_Bucky huffed a laugh. “Lady, keep dreaming.”_

_“I see how it is,” Amalia replied. “But you have to think: does a man like Tony Stark really want to be with someone with your history? I mean, you did betray your country and murder hundreds, if not thousands, didn’t you?”_

_“That’s all in the past. And that’s also pretty low. I knew you were dizzy, but I had no idea you were a schemer. Let me guess: all you want is his money and a spotlight.”_

_“And what’s wrong with that? Besides, I’m simply pointing out facts. He may not be in love with me, but he and my father will be in business together. He will have no choice but to be around me. My family will provide all he desires for location and equipment. It will look like wonderful support for the Avengers Initiative. It’ll have international appeal. And a love story between Tony and me can only add a bit of romance to an otherwise boring business deal. News people eat that stuff up. He will never settle for you. You can offer him nothing but bad press.”_

Rhodes stopped the video again and waited. Sam was still speechless. He looked at his cousin and then back to Rhodes who gave him a helpless shrug. They both stood in silence while DaSilva processed this information. DaSilva’s look soured and he said to the night sky: “My sister Theresa is like this. She’s manipulative.” He sighed. “Thank you, gentlemen.” He turned to Sam. “I’m sorry Sam, but I think we’ll be leaving. And soon.” He turned to Rhody. “Tell Mr. Stark that I am willing to talk about anything he wants. But first, I must speak to my daughter. Just-” and here he glanced at Sam, regretfully “-not at your wedding.”

Sam nodded. “I understand. And for the record: I had NO idea any of this was going on.” He nodded at Rhodes. “What, did Lang stay perched on Bucky’s shoulder the whole day?”

“In the breast pocket of his jacket, actually,” said Rhodes.

“Nice,” said Sam, duly impressed.


	9. Chapter 9

Amalia had gone off to the car without a word to either groom and her father apologized for her sullen mood while making his excuses to depart. Steve and Sam took it in stride, urging the man during their goodbyes to look after his daughter and try to help her find her happiness, marriage or no.

With Amalia gone, Bucky didn’t have to keep such close tabs on Tony, but he sort of wanted to. He told himself that his hormones needed a breather and he forced himself to mingle with the other guests for the remainder of the evening, stamping down the urge to dance with Tony again and again. There were a few more drinks, a few more dances with strangers and other friends, until finally, the festivities ended and the grooms waived their goodbyes.

Bucky saw Nat standing with the fantastic shrinking man, Scott Lang. Sam called him ‘tic-tac’ and Bucky thought it appropriate - once Sam explained what a tic-tac was. Bucky gave her a cock-eyed curious look and she rolled her eyes at him, turning her body so that she wouldn’t have to be distracted. Soon enough, she linked arms with Scott and walked him off to his car. The startled and pleased look on Scott’s face told Bucky that that move wasn’t Lang’s idea. Bucky shook his head and turned - to find Tony Stark staring at him.

“Well, you’re not the best bodyguard in the world,” said Tony, stepping closer to him. “But you are the most tenacious and ruthless and gorgeous one.”

“Thanks,” said Bucky, his heart leaping a little.

“And you have a hell of a team here.”

“Family,” shrugged Bucky. “Can’t live with ‘em…” He let the phrase hang in the air. Everyone knew the ending to that one.

Tony nodded. “Can’t have filthy sex with them,” he said.

Bucky thought he was hearing things. “Sorry?”

“Listen,” said Tony, “I’ve been watching you all day - when I haven’t been cornered by a snake in pink taffeta - and I like the cut of your jib.”

“’The cut of my jib’?” echoed Bucky, a smile spreading across his face. Tony could be such a fucking dork.

Tony shrugged, a bit embarrassed. The relief of Amalia being removed as a problem from his life had rendered him a bit giddy, it seemed. “Whatever, look, my point is: I’m single. You’re fucking sexy as hell. It’s a wedding, man.” He gestured toward the house. “Presumably you have a room to yourself with a lock on the door, right?”

Bucky was speechless, but managed to nod. “Uh, as a matter of fact, it looks like I’ll have the house to myself tonight.”

“Good,” said Tony. “Perfect. I mean - I’m willing if you are.”

The urge to kiss Tony Stark in front of the dwindling amount of guests was overpowering. Bucky could see himself stepping to him in one great stride, grabbing his face, and planting the most passionate kiss on his mouth that he could manage - but he couldn’t move. Meanwhile, his cock was raring to go; he felt it give a twitch in his trousers and he thought for a humiliating, terrifying, and fleeting moment that he had already begun to leak precum.

“But if you don’t want to…” started Tony, reading Bucky’s silence as a negative.

“Sorry, no- I mean YES! I mean… uh yeah. If you want. We could, uh… do whatever. It’s fine.” Bucky blushed fiercely.

Tony stepped to him and smiled, running his fingertips underneath the edges of his lapel. “Invite me up. We could talk about who your tailor is. I do love a good suit.”

Bucky huffed a laugh and felt his heart race. “Right this way, Mr. Stark.”

It was happening. It was really fucking happening - to him - for real. “Holy shit,” Bucky mumbled to himself as he led Stark up the stairs.

“I like this motif,” said Stark as he surveyed the living room from the height of the stairs, “modern America meets boring.”

Bucky turned to him, eyes narrowed, awkwardness and excitement temporarily forgotten. “It’s as if you don’t want to get your dick sucked.”

“That’s on the menu?” asked Stark, intrigued.

“It was,” said Bucky, furiously trying not to blush again.

“Well then, James” said Stark, “the place looks great. Perfect. I can smell the patriotism and military discipline in the air.”

Bucky shook his head. Yeah, he was gonna fuck the hell out of this guy.

  
~080~

 

Tony’s back was against the closed bedroom door as Bucky kissed him. Tony was startled at Bucky taking charge, considering that this was his idea and the suddenness of the action was thrilling. All the longing, the fantasies, were bubbling to the surface and each man clung to the other in a desperate attempt to fit in all the pent-up emotions into those first few seconds of furious contact. Tony had grabbed Bucky’s waist but soon found his hands wandering desperately for purchase as the kiss deepened and Bucky pushed his body against his, the firm long length of him shoving dignity aside and replacing it with _want_.

Bucky let his mouth suck on Tony’s lower lip before biting it, causing Tony to grunt and Bucky’s breath to hitch. Bucky dove for the space just below Tony’s ear and with a sucking kiss left a bright red welt behind that only made Bucky want to leave more of them - and in many many more places - along the man’s frame. But before he allowed himself to start stripping Tony, his latest fantasy came into his head: Tony Stark, fully dressed in a perfect suit, with his cock and balls hanging out of the flies. Bucky backed off and fell to his knees.

He massaged Tony’s crotch, feeling his interest through the cloth, pressed his mouth to it and exhaled, warming the material. Tony’s breath came with a strangled sound.

“I want to see you like this, Tony,” said Bucky in a raspy whisper. He lowered the zipper agonizingly slowly, wanting to savor the very moment he had been waiting for. The weight of Tony’s cock pushed at the flies’ opening and sat there, encased in silk boxers, and occupying the space that once restricted it. The undergarment was royal blue and against the suit Tony was wearing, it was a startling color change. Bucky worked a fingertip against the material looking for the seam and soon rubbed against the pink flesh beneath. He looked up at Tony smiling.

Tony’s breath was deep in anticipation and the slight touch was like torture. “Dammit, James,” he said, “do something.”

“Please?”

“Please… oh dear God, please.”

Bucky smiled again before reaching into the opening and pulling free Tony’s cock and balls. He was half hard and getting harder and Bucky sat back on his heels to take it all in. “Fucking hell,” was all he could manage before snaking his hands up Tony’s thighs and gently nuzzling his nose against his prick. The smell was heady, making his own cock grow heavy and full.

He heard Tony whisper: “Please.”

The tip of Bucky’s tongue met the slit of Tony’s dick in a tickling tease meant to infuriate. It worked.

“Oh fucking fuck, Barnes!” exclaimed Tony. “Would you please PLEASE do something. God damn!”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. “Alright…” and he moved his mouth to suck against Tony’s balls, first one side then the other, rolling the testes around gently before guiding his lips to the very bottom of the sack and, with the barest touch to the skin, letting go with a deep, thrumming _hummmmm_.

Tony started to moan and ended with a gurgling sound. Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. “You okay, Stark?”

“I will pay you eight million dollars to never stop that.”

“Deal,” smiled Bucky, letting him have another round.

“Holy mother of God,” said Tony.

His cock was now at full attention and Bucky couldn’t resist licking up the underside of it, following the vein to the frenulum where he flicked his tongue against it and hummed some more.

“Jee- Chri- How the fu- Son of a b-” Nothing that escaped Tony’s lips was a completed thought. His brain was buffering like a bad Internet connection.

Bucky flattened his tongue and guided Tony’s cock into his mouth slowly. He memorized the look on his face as he did it: lost, wanting, breathless, speechless. Bucky let out a grunt of his own, closed his eyes and mouth-fucked Tony Stark.

Tony’s hands found the back of his head, resting, guiding, stroking through his hair. Bucky’s own hands caressed down Tony’s body, feeling past the material and registering his ribs, abdomen, the points of his hips, the firm roundness of his buttocks. Bucky worked his tongue in different ways along the shaft, around the corona, and along the frenulum as he moved and created a variety of sounds from Tony, all of them simultaneously hilarious and decidedly lascivious. Eventually, he just worked the tip with his mouth, hand along the shaft, which in turn caused Tony to stutter again, half English, half gibberish, until the hands in his hair tightened and Bucky realized that Tony wanted him to pull off.

“What’s wrong?” asked Bucky.

Tony shook his head. He was panting now, sweating, almost beyond speech. “Need this. Need to come down.”

“I don’t mind,” said Bucky, thinking that Tony didn’t want to come in his mouth.

Tony shook his head again. “No. This is better. I’ll show you.”

Bucky stood up, confused. As he did, Tony grabbed him by the lapels and kissed him on the mouth, this time the desperation gone. Sensuality took over and Bucky fell into the kiss, drifting his tongue against Tony’s for a long moment.

“Orgasm denial,” said Tony by way of explanation.

“Wait, what?” Bucky was still lost. “Why would you deny yourself orgasm?”

“I’m not - not really. It’s called that because you’re supposed to cut off all contact just before you explode. Like snipping the wires on a bomb. Full stop. And then just ride out the sensations.”

“And it’s good?”

Tony gave him a smirk. “Oh the things I’m gonna teach you, James.”

He kissed him again, taking his time, as if to memorize his taste and feel. Bucky desperately wanted to rip both their clothes off but he couldn’t rush this. It was too unbelievable and there may never be a repeat performance. He needed this time. He wanted to take Tony Stark apart slowly and by inches, but he had a feeling that it would be him taken apart - and he was completely OK with that.

“Fair is fair,” Tony mumbled out of the corner of his mouth as the kiss lingered and Bucky sucked in a breath as he felt the zipper on his trousers being worked open. Then a hand reached in, foreign, searching. Gently, his balls and cock felt the kiss of the cool of the room and the contrast of a hot hand stroking him off. Taking his cue, he took hold of Tony with his real hand in the same manner and reveled in the hitch of breath he detected from the playboy. Tony stepped a bit forward, knuckles rubbing against knuckles until, at last, their cocks were aligned and both men had hold of both of them, allowing them to slip and slide around one another. Breathing each other’s air between kisses, the sweet sensation of their cocks against one another was heightened by the lasciviousness of still being fully clothed, as if, at any moment, they could be interrupted, caught out and in the most strange and filthy way.

Each pull and tug, each breathy kiss, drew both of them toward orgasm and Tony could feel the tension building. “You getting there, Barnes?” he asked.

Bucky nodded, not caring any more about anything but making Tony’s suit a stained mess with his release.

“Just before you nut, let go,” said Tony. “Do it. Ride it out.” Bucky stared into Tony’s eyes, unsure. Tony nodded at him. “Trust me, James.”

The curl of heat became undeniable, the crest of the wave building higher and higher. Bucky’s balls tightened and he stopped his stroke and stepped back. That feeling of perfection lingered, his cock a throbbing ache away from coming, before edging off slowly. It was like torture as he fought for completion that never came. Bucky looked to Tony helplessly.

Tony carefully watched Bucky losing his mind and smiled. “Feel that?”

“It’s like hell,” said Bucky.

“I know. Masochistic, but fucking amazing,” said Tony.

Bucky blinked at him. “Is this something you do all the time?”

“Sometimes,” he said, his casual manner mostly restored. “Sometimes I like role-play. Just a bit.”

Bucky smirked. “Like what?”

Tony looked to Bucky’s desk in the corner of the room opposite the door. “Have a seat.”

Bucky moved to the chair, his cock half hard and hanging and sat watching Tony carefully.

“Why don’t we do this: you’re a very successful CEO of an assassin corporation: “Death R Us”. And I’m an employee - low-level, probably mail room, if assassins have mail rooms - and I’ve come to ask for a raise for killing a target with, I don’t know - a thousand papercuts.”

Bucky let go a laugh. “What?”

“Well it is supposed to be fun,” said Tony. “Now, Mr. All-Powerful CEO, what do I have to do to get that raise?”

Bucky’s interest was peaked. “And I can tell you to do anything?”

“Sure. Haven’t you ever role-played before?”

“If I have, it’s been a while.”

“Got it. So… boss. What am I to do?”

“Well,” said Bucky, getting into the role, “your last assignment went very well. I’m impressed. But a raise… I don’t know.” He dragged out the last sentence with a mock-reluctance.

“Please, boss,” said Tony, half-grinning, half-mock-begging. “I’m desperate.” He fell to his knees. “You sure there’s nothing I can do?”

His voice grew husky with lust: “Stroke yourself.”

Tony began slowly, his eyes locked with Bucky. “Yes, sir.”

Bucky had to remind himself to close his mouth before he drooled on himself. Instead he swallowed hard and licked his lips as the one man in the world he wanted the most stroked off at his feet. Bucky’s cock twitched and grew hard with every breath he took. Tony couldn’t help but notice his interest, so he began stroking himself as well. In for a penny, Bucky figured.

“Can I ask you a question, boss?” asked Tony.

“What is it?”

“Why didn’t you use the metal hand? Back there when we were stroking each other?”

Bucky stopped. “What?”

Tony persisted as if he didn’t notice Bucky’s reaction: “I mean, I would. It’d probably feel cool. Like a stranger jerking me off.”

“Ok, you need to stop,” said Bucky. His sexual interest was fading fast. He wasn’t interested in talking about his injury: an operation he never asked for performed by people he was technically fighting against.

“What?” asked Tony. “I was just being honest.”

“Shut up,” said Bucky.

Tony smirked. “Make me… boss.”

And there it was: the total and complete desire to fuck the shit out of Tony Stark. He was nothing if not a complete pain in the ass. “Get over here and suck my dick,” said Bucky. “If I have to shut you up by shoving my cock to the back of your throat, so be it.” Tony crawled forward on his knees to comply. “And you can forget about the raise.”

“Awww dammit,” said Tony as his mouth came down over Bucky’s prick.

Bucky couldn’t make heads or tails of it: why in fuck was he attracted to such an insensitive asswipe like Tony Stark? He watched the head bob up and down along his shaft and tried to control his breath. Tony’s tongue was playing with his frenulum and it became difficult to hold a thought.

The pressure of Tony’s movements was perfect. It was as if somewhere in Tony’s heart, he knew he crossed a line and was trying to apologize with a blowjob. Bucky hated to say it, but it was working. That heat in his gut was back, a fire stoked to life by Tony’s mouth. Bucky couldn’t hold himself back. “Oh GOD,” he said, his breath now coming in gasps. Somehow the previous denial made this experience all the more intense and Bucky began to see what Tony had been talking about.

Tony slid off his dick and asked: “Rethinking that raise, boss?”

Bucky regarded Tony through slitted eyelids. “Fuck you, Tony.”

Tony laughed and lapped at Bucky’s balls, using his hand to stroke him off. “Getting close again?”

“Don’t you dare,” said Bucky.

Tony chuckled low and went down on him again. Bucky was expecting mercy. There was none. Tony pulled off at the peak of his orgasm and left him alone. He reached for his cock with his own hand only to find Tony holding both of his wrists and offering a hushing sound. “Let it happen. Ride it out.”

He was much stronger than Tony Stark without his suit. Certainly strong enough to break Tony’s hold on him, but somehow he didn’t want to. He let the feeling of his high wash over him, this time not fighting it. It lasted a while longer than the first time and Bucky began to see the appeal. He wondered how long he could keep doing this before he just came all on his own.

Tony was on his feet and stripping off slowly. His collar was still loose from before and his jacket and shirt fell away easily exposing the arc reactor embedded in his chest. “How you doing?” Tony casually inquired as his hands moved to his belt.

Bucky watched him from his half-daze. “Good. Better.”

“I know, right? The more you do it, the better it is. It builds up.” Tony nodded his head in Bucky’s direction. “That thing come off? Or is it permanently attached like the arm?”

“The suit? You want me to strip?” asked Bucky. He rose and stood close to Tony, almost nose to nose. “Why don’t you make me?”

Tony chuckled. “I’m not fighting you without the suit.” His eyes moved to Bucky’s arm. “Especially since you have little old mortal me at,” he traced a finger up the sleeve of his jacket, “a distinct disadvantage.” Tony’s eyes met Bucky’s and Bucky leaned in for another searing kiss.

“You have an imagination, Stark,” said Bucky, “use it.”

“Well… I… could undress you.”

Bucky smiled. “Sounds good. Go on.”

Tony worked smoothly and quickly, discarding Bucky’s habiliments on the chair behind them. Soon all that was left of either one of their suits were the boxers on Tony and the boxer-briefs on Bucky. He was in Bucky’s arms in an instant and Bucky traced kisses down his neck.

“Christ,” breathed Tony. “I knew you were built, but… shit.”

Bucky froze. “Is that a crack?” he asked. He was expecting a derogatory remark about his arm from Tony, just not in the middle of trying to fuck him.

“What? No!” said Tony. “I meant that as a compliment. And as for the remarkable addition you have…” Tony caressed it with his fingertips, circling around the red star on his deltoid. “Would you answer me a question?”

“What?” asked Bucky, not entirely free of his suspicion.

Tony’s mouth was right beside his ear as he whispered: “Tell me why you don’t jerk yourself off with it.”

Bucky blushed and buried his face in Tony’s neck. He was tempted to tell him that he didn’t know, but he did. He knew precisely why: because it wasn’t human. It was the mechanized part of him and while it was incredibly useful in battle, it wasn’t anything he was interested in using during an intimate moment.

“Because I totally would,” said Tony. The slow realization that something wasn’t right with the soldier caused him to add: “unless you don’t want to?”

“It’s nothing I enjoy,” said Bucky finally. “It’s not… natural.” It was the best word he could use to sum up his feelings.

“Jerk me off with it,” said Tony. His voice was breathy, lust-filled.

Bucky pulled his head back to regard him with curiosity. “Are you serious?”

“Please, James?” asked Tony. “I’d love it. I mean, I would do it with my suit, but the thought has occurred to me that I could very well blow my dick off, and that’s not even remotely sexy.”

Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. “How is that you can piss me off one minute and then make me laugh the next?”

“Love is complicated.”

“Love?”

“Well…,” said Tony, stalling awkwardly. He chose to change the subject instead: “You know, you never answered my question. So are you willing to… y’know.” He took Bucky’s metal hand and moved it toward his groin.

Bucky grinned in spite of himself. “Ok… if you’re sure. But if it gets weird-”

“It won’t, just… please,” said Tony. He was begging now. Bucky could hear it. He spun Tony around in his arms and reached under the material with his metal hand. As he took a hold of Tony’s cock, he sucked a lingering kiss on Tony’s neck.

“Is this what you wanted?” Bucky whispered into Tony’s ear before nibbling on the lobe. He could feel Tony’s body shudder and tremble as his cock moved in and out of his prosthetic hand.

“Y-yes,” said Tony. “It’s colder than I expected. And smooth. Damn!” Tony leaned into Bucky’s body heavily and closed his eyes. “Fuck!”

Bucky held him close, his hand teasing an orgasm from him slowly. “Got a thing for machines, Tony?” he said. “Like the feel of it? The cold metal against your cock?” He could feel Tony’s hands digging into his own hips as he teased him with his words. “Maybe if I,” he moved his hand to Tony’s scrotum and massaged. Tony gave forth with a moan that made Bucky’s half-hard cock twitch and he pushed it up against Tony’s backside. “That’s what I thought, you filthy man.” He moved back to Tony’s dick and worked the head with short strokes that passed over the corona and frenulum. “How about you say my name, Stark? Huh? How about you say the name of the man that’s taking you apart?”

“J-James… fuck! James! Oh god… JAMES!” said Tony.

“You getting close? I know how you like it. Huh? You almost there?”

“Almost… please. Please, James.” Tony bit back another moan and Bucky let go, smoothing his metal hand across Tony’s abdomen, raking it through the thatch of hair above his straining cock.

“That’s it,” said Bucky, with a touch of sarcasm. “Just ride it out.” Bucky smiled and placed soft kisses down Tony’s neck to his collarbone where he nibbled the skin. When he felt Tony’s breath slowing, he asked him: “You good?”

“Jesus Christ, I think we may have a natural here, folks,” Tony said, a smirk on his face.

“You’re really not freaked out by it, huh?” asked Bucky.

Tony turned in his arms. “Are you kidding? Even if you weren’t the most attractive killer I’ve ever met, I’d still have a mechanical engineering hard-on for this thing. It’s fucking exquisite.” Tony kissed him, his warm tongue lapping at Bucky’s. “And so are you.”

“Thanks.” Bucky offered him a weak smile.

“Seriously, you shouldn’t worry about it. For instance: my suit isn’t prosthetic in the way yours is. I mean, I can’t exactly fight bad guys or fly or anything without it, so it does help… but I said it in the beginning and I say it now: the suit and I are one. The arc reactor in my chest is the same way - more so because it literally keeps me alive. This arm of yours? It’s part of you. A part I happen to be very fond of. And as for the rest of you…” Tony stepped away by a fraction and looked him up and down, “…son of a bitch.”

Bucky felt himself blush and grinned softly. “Thanks, Tony. This is, uh… This has been fun.”

“It’s not over yet, soldier boy.” Tony glanced at the bed. “You pitch or catch?”

Bucky went breathless for a moment. “Could I…?”

Tony grinned. “Sure.” He dove in for another slow, wet kiss. They kissed deeply and ran their hands over each other as they slowly stepped toward the bed. As soon as the back of Tony’s legs hit it, Bucky pushed him gently and watched him fall. He took Tony’s boxers off of him and slipped his own underwear down. Tony moved to put his head on a pillow and take in the look of Bucky standing there, half-hard and ready. Totally naked and vulnerable, Tony could have said something thoughtless or glib. Instead, Bucky heard the bare whisper of: “Oh my God…”

That was all Bucky needed.

He climbed on top of the playboy and pressed a kiss to his mouth, taking in the intoxicating feel of Tony Stark underneath him, naked, wanting. His cock was pressing against Tony’s thigh and Tony’s was in his hip as they moved together, the kiss giving way to the nibbling of lips, the trailing of mouths and teeth and tongues along collarbones and earlobes. Bucky leaned up long enough to capture Tony’s Adam’s apple in his mouth, feeling the movement of it as Tony swallowed hard against the sensation. Bucky’s stubble tickled Tony’s skin as he moved along his throat and down to his sternal notch, where Bucky took long enough to place a tentative lick in the hollow. “This good?” he asked Tony.

“Holy shit, yes,” said Tony. Bucky could see his eyes were closed and his skin was flushed. Bucky carded his hands through Tony’s hair, bracketing his face in his hands. Tony opened his eyes and stared into Bucky’s.

“I’ve wanted you like this for a long time, Tony,” Bucky said, the confession making him blush.

“Can’t say I haven’t thought about you too, James,” said Tony.

Bucky kissed him. “I want to face you when you come. That good?”

Tony nodded and leaned up for another kiss.

The lube from the nightstand was in his hand in a matter of moments. Bucky had reached for it easily and slicked up his metal hand. “You want it like this?”

Tony’s eyes went wide. “Jesus fucking Christ on the cross bloody and dying for our sins, hell yes.”

Bucky smirked at the blasphemy and set to work opening him up. By the time the third finger was in, Tony was a sweaty mess, his cock hard and dripping.

Soon Bucky was pressing slowly into Tony’s prepped and slicked-up hole. Inch by delicious inch, he sank into him, watching his face carefully as the pressure increased, waiting for signs that he had somehow hurt him. A sheen of sweat was over them both by the time Bucky sat himself home and rested there, counting heartbeats until Tony told him he was alright. Bucky kissed him softly and said, “Thank you, Tony. Thank you so much,” before pulling back slowly and entering him again.

At first, the motion was tentative. But with time, came confidence and within minutes, Bucky had found a stroke that wasn’t too fast or slow and gave him just enough cock out to create new angles of entry until he found the perfect one that knocked against Tony’s prostate just so.

Tony’s back arched on the first brush. Mouth hanging open, dull moan escaping his lips, in the low light of the moon, he looked like a Renaissance painting by an old master. Bucky bit at Tony’s skin just above the left nipple and thrust out and in again. “Fuck!” came out of Tony and he breathed hard. “Don’t stop, James. Don’t you fucking dare.”

Bucky had no intention of taking it at any other speed than the rate he was traveling. He was having too much fun fucking the hell out of Tony and watching him come unglued. Not that this wasn’t completely turning him on either. Bucky had never been so damn hard in all his life. But, he had to admit, it had a lot to do with all the orgasm denial he had been through. Somewhere inside of him was a ticking time bomb made by Stark Industries. He couldn’t wait for the payoff - almost as much as he wanted to see Tony finally let go himself.

Bucky lifted one of Tony’s knees above his shoulder and pressed in again and again. This time it was his moan that broke the breathy huffing between them. “You’re so fucking tight, Tony. Shit.” Suddenly, Tony’s asshole constricted as he moved and Bucky cried out with surprise and pleasure.

“How’s that for tight, soldier?”

“Jesus fuck! Goddamn!”

Bucky couldn’t take it much more. He knew he had to come and his only goal was to nut hard and deep inside of Tony. His hips undulated, now circling slowly, now snapping, each motion meant to bring them both to completion.

“Got to… touch…” Tony’s aborted attempt at speech was a testament to how far gone he truly was, but Bucky knew what he meant. He wanted his cock jerked. He went for it with his metal hand and Tony gasped. “Oh God oh God ohGodohGodohGod….” It became a mantra. Bucky felt Tony’s fingertips dig deep into skin: one hand over his shoulders, the other towards his ass as he urged him onward, tipping his hips up at every inward press, straining for that deeper stroke with Every. Single. Thrust.

Bucky kept up the steady pace, increasing his thrusts as he felt the waves of heat spread inside of him. Tony let out a cry and came between them, white, thick, and sticky. He coasted on the feeling of letting go, but never broke eye contact with Bucky, seemingly urging him on, anticipating the moment when he would let loose.

It swam up on him quickly, letting Bucky rise with the crest of the deepest high and finally, achingly, letting him tip over the edge. Bucky shut his eyes so hard he saw stars as he came. It felt like years since he had come and he was sure he was an empty husk of a man when he collapsed against Tony’s panting chest.

Several long minutes ticked by. The sound of their breathing was all that existed. Bucky thought of nothing and everything, different vignettes and scenes popping into his head like snippets of film hobbled together on one reel: Tony in his suit, their hands around their cocks as they stood there, Tony on his knees. All of it replayed in his mind, but one thing kept coming back: Tony marveling over his prosthesis. _“This arm of yours? It’s part of you. A part I happen to be very fond of.”_

Tony wasn’t looking at his arm like a foreign object, a tool for murder. He was just looking at Bucky. Peace washed over Bucky as he dwelt on this. It was good to be accepted in a frank and honest way. And he could always count on Tony to be frank, if not entirely honest.

“Hey bionic man,” whispered Tony. “You want another go?”

Bucky brought up his head. “Sleep first. It’s been a long day.” He moved under the covers with Tony, carefully lining himself up behind him. “You good?”

“Very. I’ve always loved being the little spoon.”

Bucky smiled into Tony’s hair and let sleep take him knowing that a good old-fashioned razzing would be his due once Nat found out about this.


End file.
